


Weightless

by opalitegalaxy



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Near Death Experiences, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 10:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15313410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalitegalaxy/pseuds/opalitegalaxy
Summary: The Normandy goes offline for an upgrade.





	Weightless

**Author's Note:**

> Written in just over an hour, not beta'd or anything.  
> I kind of wanted to go deeper past the "constantly tough and always unshakable" exterior of Commander Shepard, and figured the destruction of the original normandy would be an interesting way to explore that.

Technology was a fickle thing, even in such an advanced age. A single line of incorrect code could cause havoc, and, in a case like the Normandy, possibly endanger several lives. Since the ship had undergone a second round of repairs and upgrades, the assistive software that Joker relied on to correct his trajectory, monitor fuel capacity and engage stealth systems had began giving off inaccurate readings. On two occasions so far, his control panel had indicated a half-full engine tank when it had actually been running on fumes for six hours. Not even EDI, in all her brilliance, had been able to find the source of the problem, the bug seeming to affect her diagnostic tools.

Tali had made similar efforts only to come up empty handed, her best hypothesis being that perhaps it was the old Collector virus from so long ago, and rather than being removed the first time around, it had simply gained the ability to modify itself to avoid detection. It could not be scrubbed through conventional means - can't fix the problem if you don't even know what's broken - so the quarian had set to work programming an entirely new software, aided by the ever-helpful AI. Joker's only request was that she added a way for him to change the colour of his control panel at will. The orange hurt his eyes after looking at it for more than half an hour, apparently.

Shepard had decided to be hands-off and left them to it, requesting simply that the code be triple-checked for any errors, the price of any mistakes potentially meaning the loss of yet another Normandy.

The combined mastery of both Tali and EDI meant the software was written to completion the next day, then declared stable later in the evening. Installation took place in the early hours of the morning to cause minimum disruption to daily operations. Vital systems were, of course, unaffected - the oxygen and lighting were wired independently from the mainframe with their own generators for cases just like this. But Shepard had quite frantically realized that gravity was not counted as vital as her feet drifted from the firm deck beneath her.

It was all too much, and far too soon. Jane was no longer enclosed in the safety of her intact ship. She was back to staring death in the face again, watching her home fall to pieces in a blinding yellow blast, floating amongst the fire and brimestone.

It hadn't been too bad at first; she'd told Kaidan the Alliance would be there, all she had to do was believe her own bold lies and hold out until then. They'd see her. She'd be fine. _You'll be fine._

The sentiment was nice, but ultimately useless when she felt the sudden pressure in her chest, a vice grip wrapping around her throat. The cold vacuum of space was relentless, taking her vision next as her eyes began to swell and bleed under the crushing atmosphere. Her hands flew to the back of her suit only to discover a massive split down the middle of the oxygen recycler. Shepard lost her last shred of composure.

Legs kicked out every which way in a flurry of panic, the short and shallow breaths she could manage rattling around her defunct helmet. Nothing could save her now, Shepard was vaguely aware of that somewhere in the back of her mind, but fear kept her moving. It was a prayer without words, hoping that if she fought hard enough, the universe might recognize her worth, might show some mercy and spare her life.

It hadn't exactly played out like that - she'd been given a second chance, but not by some god or mysterious, benevolent force. Cerberus had saved her life, the Illusive Man had saved her life, and her home had been rebuilt from the ground up. But her mind had fractured, body reverting into fight-or-flight mode and forcing her to relive it all again as a warning, a call for some self-preservation for once.

And that's how Kaidan had found her, thrashing around the crew deck as she went through the motions again, struggling for air and groping at the non-existent recycler on her back. One of her fingernails had snapped in the fight, the jagged edge producing red beads of blood and raised, angry claw marks.

The Major wanted to ignore etiquette and gather her up in his arms, hold her close until she came back around, but his formal training had warned him of the dangers. _Never thought that mandatory unit on trauma would actually be useful._ This was a delicate situation that required tact. So he called her name, keeping his voice firm and loud enough for her to hopefully register across the distance. Shepard had a mean kick, and a broken nose was not what he'd come looking for.

Again and again, he called for her. Shepard. _Shepard._

"Shepard, it's Kaidan." A spark of recognition lit in her eyes at that, finally seeing the first crack in the illusion. "Shepard, you're ok. You're on board the Normandy. You're safe, ok? EDI had to turn off all the systems while they uploaded the new software to the bridge, remember?"

Her violent movements had stopped eventually, but still her arms didn't budge from her back. Still she didn't take more than tiny gulps of air. Kaidan repeated himself, ten minutes of reassuring her of reality before the cloud over her eyes started to dissipate. It would pass on its own time, all he needed to do was be there when it did, help ground her.

Kaidan closed the gap between them now, hoping his unusually high body temperature would be some measure of comfort to her as she claimed it had been in the past. But he didn't dare touch her yet, not without warning. "I'm going to take your hand, ok? The gravity will be back online soon, I don't want you hurting yourself."

The small incline of her head was the permission he needed, carefully prying one of her hands away from her shoulderblades to link his fingers with hers. For the next five minutes, until Tali announced the upgrade complete over the intercom, he talked to her. About her life so far, cheekily reminding her that her mother was still waiting for a call, musing on the practicality of her proposal of adopting a German Shepard dog and naming it Commander.

A rumble from below the deck signalled the ship's first breath of life, and he quickly reached out to hold her by the waist before they fell to the floor in a heap, Kaidan taking most of the impact to his backside. Jane slumped against him, limp and despondent, the emotional turmoil sapping the last reserve of energy she had, and she shifted to hide her face in the curve of his neck in embarrassment. Never had she wanted anyone to witness her like that, much less Kaidan of all people.

"You ok?" He asked, palm running up and down the plane of her back soothingly.

"Guess I'm not the big, strong Commander everyone thought I was anymore, huh," she replied dully, the exhaustion bleeding into her voice.

"You don't have to be. Not for me, anyway."

Kaidan felt her lips quirk into a tired smile against his skin, never more grateful for the sensation at any other point in his life. "Thank you."


End file.
